I wondered, in her long empty days up here, did she wish something, anything, would happen, as I had so often wished I could just stand on exactly this hill and do nothing? Had she missed my hand on her flank, or full of apple for her? Was I in her dreams as often as she was in mine? I do not know. I do not need to be loved as deeply as I love, and I do not need to speak of it. All I knew was that she remembered me in this moment. And one moment is all there ever is.
